Only Two at the End
by bigb360
Summary: It was just the two of them at the end as they trudged along, tired and weary, to complete Overwatch's final mission. Would they succeed? Was it all worth it?


It was just the two of them. It had been for a very long time. As he trudged along the dusty path through the ruined city, kicking the occasional rock out of his way, he tried to recall how long it had been. Years? A decade? Had it been that long yet? He couldn't recall. The days all flowed together at this point, and he couldn't even remember what month it was. His purpose he could remember. That's almost all that was ever on his mind anymore; his final mission. They were the only two that could complete it now. Not because he especially wanted to, but because everyone else was dead.

He glanced over at his companion. The short girl ( _she's a woman_ , he corrected himself) walking next to him stared at her feet as she walked. He still couldn't believe how many years had passed since she had just been that young Overwatch prodigy. She looked tired. An image of a bright, optimistic smile flashed through his mind. A memory from so many years ago when that girl could brighten up any room with her bubbly disposition. But now her face was sullen, and her demeanor was always downtrodden. The lines of age had begun to form prematurely. How he longed to see that bright, youthful, optimistic smile again.

He was tired. He had been tired for so long. He almost couldn't recall the last time he wasn't tired. They had been walking for several hours without incident and had spent the last few scrounging for any supplies they could find in the ruins of the once great city they had arrived in. He noticed his companion laboring more than normal, and knowing she wouldn't broach the subject of needing to rest, he decided it was time to stop for a while.

"Let's set up camp over there," he said, motioning to a small building that had partially avoided the destruction. It would offer some shelter for a few hours at least.

She nodded and slowly made her way to the building. Finding a bench, she sat down and watched as he began to gather some wood in a pile to start a fire with. It took him a moment to get the fire going, but after some prodding, the familiar orange glow overtook the quickly approaching dusk. He sat on the ground and took his glove off of his human hand and began to warm it as he allowed the fire to calm his nerves.

He glanced up at his companion again. She was holding her hand up to her face and watching as it became translucent and seemed to flicker ever so slightly. She grimaced and quickly grabbed it and it returned to normal. He quickly got up and walked up next to her and put his hand on her back. She waved him off.

"It's okay," she said.

"It's happening more frequently now," he replied.

She nodded. He knew he didn't need to tell her that. The glowing device strapped to her chest had begun to dim in the last few months. The power cell fueling it was only designed to last for a few years before being replaced. It had already outlasted its expected lifespan, and was only working on borrowed time. And therefore, her connection to this plane was on borrowed time. But the one person who could help her repair it, the one person who could extend her connection to their time, had been dead for years.

He sat down on the bench next to her and stared at the fire. They were normally quiet like this. They didn't have a lot to talk about. Life had become about survival first, and their final mission second. He was sick of the quiet at that point though.

"Does it hurt?" he asked. "I mean when you, you know, start to fade out like that."

She kept staring at the fire and finally responded with a curt, "Yes."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. He chided himself for being so insensitive with his question.

"I'm sorry. That was a dumb thing to ask," he said.

She glanced over and her sullen demeanor broke for a second with a small smile, "It's okay. I'm just glad for the attempt at conversation. We talk so rarely, and I didn't mean to sound angry."

The following awkward silence induced the need to fidget, prompting him to remove his gun from his holster and begin to inspect it. He heard his companion sigh next to him as she leaned back and looked up at the darkening sky.

"How did it come to this, Jesse?" she wondered aloud in her familiar British drawl.

It was a rhetorical question of course. They both knew how it had come to this. Omnics and humans had destroyed each other. It was as simple as that. Overwatch had reconvened in the face of a second Omnic uprising instigated by his old mentor, Gabriel Reyes, and his new organization, Talon. The fighting went on for a couple of years until both sides used their end game at the same time. Billions of humans had died; almost the entire population. It had been some kind of biological agent that the Omnics released that eventually killed everyone, except the select few who somehow had a natural immunity. That was followed by the command from a dying Jack Morrison to release Overwatch's end game; strategic atmospheric nuclear detonations around the world. Basically a global EMP. Or did Morrison act first and the Omnics retaliate? He was never completely sure. Whatever the case, almost everyone, Omnic and human, was dead.

Neither of them knew for sure how many humans and Omnics had survived those two strikes. They hadn't encountered another person for several years. They did stumble across the occasional hostile Omnic from time to time, so he figured there were more of them than people, but probably not that many more. But it did prove that the god AI still survived and was still sending commands to the remaining Omnics. And that was their final mission; find its remnants and destroy them. Forever rid the world of the Omnic threat and hope there were enough people to repopulate the planet.

But he wasn't sure that was possible anymore. He had almost given up hope that there were any people other than them on earth, and once her device finally failed, he'd be alone, assuming he were still alive of course.

He finally replied to her question, "Everyone got really stupid."

"We were all so sure of ourselves back then. So sure of our beliefs…" she trailed off briefly and then continued, "I suppose I was pretty foolish back then, thinking we could all get along."

"Don't say that, Lena," he responded, "you were the only one with any sense. If they'd have listened to you the world….well it wouldn't be dead."

She chuckled and shook her head, "Who the hell am I, luv? I was never anyone."

"Well you're better than I ever was," he said, "a better agent and a better person."

The dusk had turned to night and the fire had begun to die, so he left his friend briefly to gather more wood. Upon returning he saw the light from his friend's device flicker, and then saw his friend's entire body seem to do the same. She was bent over and seemed to be in pain, but as quickly as it happened, the light resumed and she sat back up straight. He hadn't seen the device do that before.

"Has that happened before; the light flickering?" he asked her.

He thought he saw her wipe a tear from her eye through the dark, as she answered, "No. Well not since Winston made this bloody thing."

More uncomfortable silence followed the mention of their late friend. He hadn't died due to the biological agent. He wasn't human after all. No, he had failed Winston. He had failed to save him.

He looked over to his friend after several moments of silence. Her head was hanging low and her shoulders were shaking. It took him a moment to notice that she was crying. He hadn't seen her cry that much over the years. Not only was she unflappably optimistic before the end of the world, she was so damn tough after it. She was being so quiet, he figured she didn't want him to know.

Not sure quite what to do, he lightly placed his human arm around her shoulders. Immediately the dam broke. She grabbed his poncho and pulled herself into him, burying her head into his chest and sobbing. He was taken aback for a moment, but eventually he placed his arm around her and consoled her as she released her sadness into his chest.

She eventually stopped crying, but they remained like that for several hours. She fell asleep off and on while he kept watch deep into the night. After a few hours he felt her stir and she sat up.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to blubber all over you," she said.

He smiled and shook his head. "No need to apologize. I recon we're due a cry after all this time."

She looked at him for several moments as if she had something to say, but wasn't quite confident enough to let it out.

Finally, after she knew he'd noticed her apprehension, she said, "Jesse…will you…will you give me a kiss?"

He knew the shocked look on his face probably wasn't what she was looking for at that moment. It had never been like that between them. Their relationship had always been professional. Sure they'd developed a close friendship and a dependence on one another over the lonely years after the biological attack had killed everyone, but she'd never shown any interest in taking it beyond that, and he'd never had the time to even think about the subject.

Seeking to explain herself, she continued, "I think we both know I'm going to phase out soon and not come back. I just figured I should kiss one man in my life…before I…"

He couldn't believe that. A pretty girl with her lively personality had never had even a small kiss?

"But I thought you and that d.j. kid had a thing going years ago."

"Oh," she said, smiling slightly, "we kind of did. But I was always so busy with Overwatch, I never really got around to taking things very seriously with him. And before I knew it, well, he was gone." She let out a long sigh and said regretfully, "I thought I had all the time in the world."

He knew the feeling. He had taken so much for granted as well. And now that he was presented with his current choice, he wished all the more that he hadn't focused so much on their mission to the exclusion of enjoying his friend's company.

Noticing his hesitation, she began to wave her hand and said, "I'm sorry. Just forget it. It's a stupid request at a time li…"

She was cut off before she could finish as he took her chin lightly with his index finger and brought her face close to his. He felt her tense up and could see she'd stopped breathing. Her eyes locked onto his and the moment suddenly became the most electric moment he could ever remember having.

After what seemed like an eternity, their lips touched. He felt her melt into his chest as they embraced. The kiss deepened as the moments passed. He felt her tongue begin to probe for his as she grabbed his poncho and pulled herself in close. He felt the realization of the years of not feeling the touch of a woman compel him forward as he wrapped his arms around her small frame.

The moment was only headed in one direction, and they both knew it. They both wanted it, but suddenly he fell forward as he passed right through her translucent body as if passing through air. She ended up behind him before she solidified again and the light on her chronal accelerator finally stopped blinking furiously and settled into its dull glow.

She turned around and looked at him with a sullen and sad expression. He knew he looked the same way as she moved back over to him and leaned her head into his chest again.

"I don't want to phase out again, Jesse," she said, her voice wavering with fear like he'd never heard from her before, "I don't want to lose you too. Why is this happening?"

"I don't know, darlin'," he replied, "I wish to God I did."

"Promise me you'll finish what we started," she said after a few moments, clearly sounding like sleep was about to overtake her.

"I promise," he replied.

The bright sun pounding down on his face woke him early the next morning. He looked down to where his companion had fallen asleep, but she was gone. All that remained was the device she'd had strapped to her chest for so many years. It was completely silent. The power had been competent exhausted. She was gone.

He stood up and grabbed his hat and placed it on his head. After fishing around in his poncho, he pulled out a cigar, still individually wrapped in a thin plastic film. It was his very last cigar, the one he'd saved for years. He bent down and pulled a still smoldering stick out of the fire and used it to light it. After taking a big draw off the cigar, he grabbed the chronal accelerator and his supplies and began walking down the street, kicking any stray rocks to the side as he continued his mission.


End file.
